My grandmother whips my butt…

I lived with my grandmother briefly after college and learned a lot about her life as a young woman. She was wife, mother, farmer, builder after her house burned down, and professional cleaner. Hearing her stories, and having just put in a garden filling out entire back yard, I pronounce myself a complete and utter wimp. Oh, I think I measure up fairly well to my contemporaries, but to our grandparents generation? HA! I don’t even like cooking dinner every day and she cooked 3 full meals day on a wood stove no less. There were no poptarts back then or pillsbury orange rolls, no microwave to cook turkey bacon, or blenders to whip up delicious smoothies with strawberries available year-round. She didn’t have any of the conveniences that we take for granted. Heck, she didn’t even have doctors close enough to tend to her when she got mangled in some piece of farm equipment. She didn’t have to worry about going to the gym every day, because she got a mega workout during the course of her day, every day. Holy Moly, I think she still whipped my butt when she was 85. And she totally cracks me up. She’s about to turn 96, and still remembers my family’s birthdays better than I do, or the rest of my family for that matter. I know I’m not the only one who doesn’t measure up to our grandparents. So what the heck has happened in the last 100 years? I guess living off the land and being self-sufficient if no longer required by the bulk of our society. It would be nice to do so, but it’s too hard! Here’s to you Gigi!

I’m starting to feel delirious from my day, better go to bed, before I have to resort to snagging a poptart. My survival techniques lean heavily on poptarts… Oh Dang, Mr.Tot made me give them up in protest to Kellogg’s dumping Michael Phelps for smoking the pot which gave him the munchies to eat the poptarts…. The injustice of it all, and by that – I mean – ME having to give them up!

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